Run from Me, If You Can

The kitchen knife slipped from my trembling fingers, slicing deep into my palm. Blood welled up immediately, crimson drops spattering across the marble countertop like tiny fallen stars. But the sharp sting that should have made me cry out never came.

Because I could feel him.

Killian was close—somewhere in the packhouse, his presence washing over me like a tide I couldn't resist. My heart hammered against my ribs, drowning out everything else. The mate bond hummed beneath my skin, electric and alive, making even the pain fade to nothing.

I pressed a dish towel against the cut, watching the white fabric bloom red, but my attention was already drifting toward the hallway. Every instinct screamed at me to find him, to be near him, even though I knew he barely acknowledged my existence.

The sound of his deep laughter echoed from the main hall, and my feet moved before my brain could stop them. I abandoned the bloodied towel and crept toward the staircase, my bare feet silent against the cold marble floors.

From my hiding spot behind the banister, I could see him perfectly. Killian stood near the grand fireplace, his dark hair catching the golden light as he spoke with his Beta, Marcus. Even from this distance, his presence was overwhelming—broad shoulders filling out his black shirt, the easy confidence in his stance that marked him as our future Alpha.

He was everything I wasn't. Strong where I was weak, commanding where I was invisible.

As if sensing my gaze, his head turned sharply in my direction. Our eyes met across the space, and the world tilted on its axis.

The mate bond exploded between us like lightning striking dry earth. My soul recognized his with a violence that left me breathless, every cell in my body crying out in recognition. This was him. This was my mate. The other half of my very existence.

But Killian's expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and those storm-gray eyes that had just ignited my entire being now looked at me with something that made my stomach drop.

Disgust.

He frowned and deliberately turned away, dismissing me as easily as swatting a fly.

The rejection hit me like a physical blow. I gripped the banister so hard my knuckles went white, fighting the urge to double over from the pain radiating through my chest. The bond that had felt so right, so perfect, now felt like a gaping wound.

I should have left then. Should have retreated to my room and licked my wounds in private. But something kept me frozen in place, watching him like a moth drawn to flame.

"So, any thoughts on your future Luna?" Marcus asked, his voice carrying easily across the hall.

Killian's laugh was sharp, bitter. "I know exactly what I want."

"Oh? Care to share with your faithful Beta?"

"I want a mate who's worthy of standing beside an Alpha," Killian said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Someone strong. Powerful. A warrior who can fight alongside me, not some pathetic weakling who needs constant protection."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Someone like Elara, you mean?" Marcus's tone was carefully neutral, but I caught the underlying question.

Killian's response shattered what remained of my heart.

"Gods, no. Elara is exactly what I don't want. She's weak, Marcus. Completely useless. Can't shift properly, has barely any wolf strength, and don't even get me started on her combat skills." He shook his head in disgust. "I need a Luna who won't be a liability. Someone the pack can respect, not pity."

"That's... harsh, Killian. She's not that bad—"

"She is." Killian's voice was final, absolute. "The Moon Goddess better not be cruel enough to saddle me with someone like her as a mate. I'd rather reject the bond entirely than be tied to such weakness."

The words hit me like physical blows, each one driving deeper than the last. Weak. Useless. Liability. The man destined to be my other half thought I was nothing more than a burden.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, stifling the sob that threatened to escape. The mate bond, which had felt like salvation moments ago, now felt like a curse. How could the Moon Goddess be so cruel? How could she pair me with someone who saw me as everything wrong with the world?

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled backward, desperate to escape before they noticed me. But my foot caught on the edge of the rug, and I had to grab the wall to keep from falling.

The small sound made Killian's head snap toward the stairs again, his eyes narrowing as he searched the shadows. I held my breath, pressing myself against the wall, praying he couldn't see me.

After what felt like an eternity, he turned back to Marcus, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He knew someone had been listening.

"Anyway," he continued, his voice lower now, "tomorrow's my birthday celebration. Twenty-one years old, officially ready to take over as Alpha. Maybe the Moon Goddess will finally reveal my true mate."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I'll choose my own Luna. Someone worthy."

I couldn't listen anymore. Each word was another nail in the coffin of my foolish dreams. Clutching the gift I'd spent weeks preparing—a leather-bound journal engraved with his initials—I fled up the stairs as silently as possible.

In the safety of my small room, I finally let the tears fall. The journal felt heavy in my hands, mocking me with its careful craftsmanship and the hours of love I'd poured into it. What had I been thinking? That a simple gift would make him see me differently?

I was exactly what he'd said—weak, useless, unworthy.

But as I sat there in the darkness, something else began to bloom alongside the pain. A small, stubborn spark of defiance. Tomorrow was his birthday celebration, and everyone in the pack would be there. Including me.

Maybe I was weak now, but I didn't have to stay that way forever.

The mate bond still hummed beneath my skin, a constant reminder of what could never be. But for the first time, instead of yearning, I felt something else entirely.

Determination.